Shield of Lies (6 page)

"And those are safely hidden where no one will find them except for us." Ulfrik placed his hand on her shoulder. He did worry that Konal suspected Ulfrik had his fortune in gems and somehow planned to obtain them. "He will not find them."

"It's not finding them I worry for; it's what he might do seeking them. Send him to another jarl. It's just too complicated with him here." As soon as she spoke the words, her eyes widened in surprised and a flush drew to her cheeks. Aren snored on her shoulder, and both were reminded that Konal was likely the boy's father. However, neither had ever given voice to the thought.

"I will speak with him and make my decision." He kissed Runa's head and sent her toward their private rooms. He returned to Konal, who waited expectantly, then asked him to walk with him outside the hall.

The night was chill and moon-bright. Points of orange flame showed where men stood at posts around the ringed stockade walls. A few dark shapes flitted between buildings as they strolled. At last Ulfrik stopped Konal as they entered the central square of the fortress.

"Your arrival is both fortuitous and burdensome. A famine has apparently taken hold about us, and more men to feed is no easy thing in the best of times. However, you are not so many that we will be undone. Your numbers will fill the losses that we cannot avoid. Men die in peace and war."

"How true," Konal agreed. Ulfrik held Konal's gaze steadfast and searched him for hints of defiance. Instead he saw the same shrewd, appraising look on Konal's face that he remembered from years before when they had first met. He had come outside to get the measure of Konal's intentions, but now his stomach tightened with the realization that the reverse was a truer statement of events. "Let me ask you, Lord Ulfrik, why do you hesitate when more fighting men and another ship come so many miles to follow you?"

"Because you have come so many miles, that is exactly the matter. Between Ireland and Frankia, there must be scores of jarls willing to take on a talented crew of warriors. Why bypass them to find me?"

"As I said, I am a man without family. My brother was the other half of my life, and with him gone I have no rudder. He was the best half of my life, and he showed me what to do and I did it. I don't want to lead, Lord Ulfrik, I want to follow. But I don't want to follow a fool. I did pass scores of them between Ireland and Ravndal."

He looked around, not waiting for Ulfrik's response, inhaling and admiring the fortress. "This was only just built when I left for home. It has prospered and the people here do not worry for food or safety. That is unlike most places in the world. So why is it unusual that I want to rejoin you?"

"There is little safety with Franks attacking the borders." Ulfrik shrugged, finding no good reason to deny Konal. Even if he intended harm, he was better watched up close than at a distance. "Very well, Konal, tomorrow you and your men will swear your oaths to me right in this square. Hundreds will witness and you will be welcomed here. I will find a place for you to live, but for now you may remain in my hall."

Konal folded his hands behind his back, simply nodding with deep satisfaction. Ulfrik smiled, though his hand touched the silver amulet of Thor's hammer hanging from his neck. He had lived too long to not recognize the hands of the gods at work, and he prayed their schemes would be merciful to him.

Chapter 8

Ulfrik surveyed the faces of the hirdmen arrayed before him. The hall was tight with their numbers, ranks of shadowed men with hard faces and deep scars, snarls full of fury and a smoldering battle-lust. The silence was heavy with the force of their presence, and only the errant flapping of window covers from the shallow breeze made any noise. All but the hird had been cleared from the hall. They had ushered inside the scouts and their news of Clovis's activity. Morning light flashed haphazardly as the hide covers swayed over the windows, distracting Ulfrik as he stood before his men.

Snorri and Einar were to his left and Gunnar had proudly taken his place at Ulfrik's right side. The rest of his trusted men and companions had melded into the crowd, becoming one body that demanded action. Ulfrik had considered his options and knew what he must do.

"You are certain Clovis is not looping around to attack us, but merely cutting through our lands to head northwest?"

One of the two scouts standing at the front nodded, then turned to address his companions. "We followed until Flat Rock Hill, where he should have turned south again if he intended to attack us. Instead he continued straight, where he made camp at the creek."

"He's headed to Ull the Strong's territory," offered one of the crowd, a swarthy man with a heavy black beard and wild eyes. Voices rose in agreement, and again the chatter drowned out any one voice. Finally, Ulfrik shouted for quiet.

"I saw Ull at Hrolf's gathering, and he has suffered from Frankish raids out of the north. It is possible Clovis is working with other Franks to crack Ull. It would give him another border to launch attacks. But he cannot hold Ull's lands and his own, not unless King Odo is willing to send him men and supplies, which I doubt."

"Odo can't get his ass out of Paris these days," Snorri quipped. "Don't mind him in your plans."

Ulfrik shook his head, knowing he had dealt Clovis a blow that should have ended his raiding season. Whatever had drawn him out must have been at the order of a higher power, maybe King Odo himself. The Franks had remained woefully uncoordinated during the break up of their empire, but recent years showed them cooperating more fully. The suddenness of the move gave some credence to that possibility; had he been building for an attack, Ulfrik's lookouts would have noted it, but a sudden order into action would have gone undetected. He had his reservations, but he also had a hall of bloodthirsty fighting men watching him think. Then he thought of Clovis and his horses stretched into a line, their fortress left with only a bare guard, and knew he could not let it go.

"I have decided." Ulfrik paused, playing the moment for his men and ensuring he had their silent attention. "Ull will have to contend with whatever attack is coming to him, and we will have no way to send warning. But we will cut the snake off at the head. His fortress is close enough to strike while he is gone. No matter how he fares with Ull, he'll return to ruins and be finished."

Cheers greeted Ulfrik's decision. Einar shouted out assembly orders to the men, and their war band would be marching within the hour. Ulfrik appreciated Einar's efficiency of command. He took over the details of running organization better than any before him. Runa's brother, Toki, had taken long years to grow into the role Einar filled fresh out of his youth. He caught Snorri smiling, and the two shared a brief moment of shared pride.

The hirdmen broke up and leapt to their duties, boasts of how they would capture Clovis's banner or dance on his ramparts flowing out with them into the morning light. Ulfrik turned to prepare, and ran into Gunnar standing behind him with his hand on the pommel of his sword. He read his son's thoughts and responded without delay.

"You'll remain here. I'm leaving archers on the walls, and you will lead them."

"I don't want to lead archers; I want to be at the front of the battle with you. I want to carry our banner."

"Gunnar, you'll be hard pressed to keep your head in one piece without the burden of a banner to guard. Do as I say and remain in the hall."

Runa emerged from their rooms, Hakon following closely behind her. Once he saw the scowl on his brother's face, his own lit up with glee. "You've got to stay here with me! See, you're not so big!"

The words hit Ulfrik harder than he expected. Out of dark memories, he recalled the very words from his own younger brother, a man who had poisoned their father and nearly murdered Ulfrik. "Respect your brother!" he shouted, setting both Hakon and Runa back in shock. "He will lead here in my absence and you'll obey him as you would me. Is that clear to you?"

Hakon's bright eyes had widened like a fish and he nodded slowly as he shrank behind Runa's skirt.

"Gunnar, are you clear?"

"When will you take me into battle? This is not fair! A victory is at hand and you'd deny me the chance to be part of it? Some of the hirdmen are only a few years older than me."

When Gunnar grew flustered, he looked so much like Toki that Ulfrik nearly reacted as if it were his wife's brother before him. Ulfrik felt hot stares from Snorri and Runa, and knew Einar studiously ignored the conflict while he ushered the last men from the hall. No matter what anyone thought, Gunnar was his to raise and he judged Clovis an enemy never to be underestimated. Furthermore, Clovis would delight in the chance to maim Gunnar the way Ulfrik had maimed Clovis's son. He could not accept the danger. He loved all his sons, but Gunnar was most dear to him.

"Gunnar, your day will come, but not now. I promise you, as my son, your whole life will be nothing but fighting the moment you take up your sword as a man. Do not be so eager to kill; for all the bragging men make of their battles, it is to hide the fear and disgust of what they have witnessed. One day, you will drive that sword you carry deep into an enemy's guts and you will feel his heartbeat throbbing up your blade before it fades away. His eyes will lock with yours and you will see in him the faces of friends or family, and you will know a mother or a wife will weep for the life you slashed from the world. But you will have to press on, for the slain man's friends will seek vengeance and so you will kill until the end of your days—until that day when your attention wavers and you see the blade flash too late as it punches into your breast and blood fills your mouth. Then you will lock eyes with your enemy and his hatred will be your last sight of this world. So don't be so quick to step on this path. You'll be on it soon enough, and you will never step off."

Ulfrik straightened himself, realizing his heart pounded and his breathing labored. Gunnar held his eyes for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the floor. He nodded to his father and mumbled something before leaving. Ulfrik considered calling him back, but he had already spoken his heart to the boy. Instead, he returned to preparing for the upcoming battle, looking at no one but Runa who nodded appreciatively. He paused by her side, and her cool, smooth hand touched his cheek.

"He is in love with the stories of glory and battle," she said. "Konal's arrival has rekindled all those foolish tales he used to weave when Gunnar was a boy."

"It's not Konal." Ulfrik took Runa's hand and kissed it gently before returning it to her. "He is ready to be a man, but Clovis ..."

"I know. I will leave Gunnar alone for now, but will try to get through to him later when the sting is gone. I expect he'll look to his girl for comfort anyway."

"That's what I have always done." Runa laughed as he turned from her, Hakon still huddling behind her. "Now I'm gone to crush a Frankish lord so that his back is broken for good."

Chapter 9

By midday, Ulfrik's war band had marched into the woods of black trees now crowned in the red and gold of autumn. No sooner had he stepped onto the brown carpet of leaves and forest debris than he realized he was marching into a trap.

He stopped the loose column of men with an upraised fist. Hands sought weapons and shields raised in anticipation of a foeman's unseen strike. Einar halted, carrying Ulfrik's banner and shouldering his long-hafted ax, and his green eyes were wide behind the shadows of his helmet's noseguard. "Do you see something?"

Ulfrik pulled off his own helmet, an over-mended trophy he had claimed from his brother over a decade ago, and tucked it under his arm. He scratched his scalp with his free hand and grimaced. "I see that I am an overeager fool running into the jaws of a wolf. Our scouts reported Clovis is taking cavalry to attack Ull the Strong. Horses can't run up walls. Why would he need cavalry?"

"To run down Ull's warriors in the field." Several men drew closer to listen as Einar offered his opinion. Konal and his crew joined the small group as the larger army held to silence.

"Why are Ull's men in the field?"

"Because he's retreating."

"Do you know that Ull's retreating? I haven't heard such news."

Ulfrik studied the realization spreading from Einar to other listeners. The forest was silent but for the crackles and creaks of men lingering among the trees, impatient for the order to resume. Konal rubbed his neck and laughed, and others shared concerned glances. Einar's face now darkened with an angry flush.

He dropped his ax head-first into the soft ground. "He's coming after us."

"He lured us out of a place of strength to fight on a battlefield of his choosing. As soon as our scouts departed, he turned back and marched all night to set an ambush along the path to his fortress. His cavalry will burst out of hiding and trample us as we merrily run for his abandoned stronghold. We'll get hit from behind, totally surprised, and he'll hack us to bits. Why did I not see it? I followed what he wanted me to see, rather than what I should've seen for myself."

Ulfrik flung his helmet into the dirt and spun on his heel. He folded an arm across his chest and ran his fingers through his beard as he thought. Those around him dropped their heads and moved back. Hundreds of lives depended upon his decisions, and acting with discipline little better than that of a greenhorn put all of these people in unnecessary jeopardy. His only relief was in recognizing the trap before it was sprung. Pacing in a tight circle as he weighed options, he met no one's eyes. All looked to him for leadership and a safe escape from the trap. Clovis likely had seeded the approach with scouts who would spot a withdrawal and bring Clovis in close pursuit. He twisted a finger into his beard, and stopped as a plan began to assemble in his imagination.

Einar stepped into his vision, holding Ulfrik's helmet in two thick hands. "You've got a plan; I see that look upon you."

Ulfrik accepted the helmet, brushed a clod of mud from the faceplate, and donned it again. "Clovis still thinks we're stupid barbarians because we won't sing songs about his dead god. That's quite an advantage he gives us."